


bow my head to no one

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: My Kingdom Is As Great [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon-Typical Violence, Dumbledore's Army, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Hogwarts, Magic, Neville Longbottom's POV, Second War with Voldemort, Toby isn't subtle, Toby spent too much time with Jareth over the summer holidays and sometimes it shows, not quite canon, set in 1997
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: Neville and the D.A. are busy fighting the good fight from the Room of Requirement. It's a good thing they have Toby Williams.(Probably.)





	bow my head to no one

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the first fic in this series before you read this one!
> 
> Also, there is some violence in this fic, because Death Eaters, but nothing too graphic.

** bow my head to no one **

Neville Longbottom was running like devils were after him, his feet pounding against the worn grey stone of Hogwarts’ flagstones. 

It wasn’t devils which were after him – but the Carrows were almost as bad. Neville’s only hope was to get back to the Room of Requirement before they caught up with him. It had been simple bad luck that they’d spotted him on the way back from graffiti’ing the Great Hall…

Neville told himself to focus, and kept running. To his dismay, the nearest staircase was in the process of moving away from him. Neville had no time to think of an alternate route. He ducked left down the closest passageway.

Two and a half minutes later, he cursed aloud as he ran into a dead end, saying words that his grandmother would have washed his mouth out with soap for saying, but he was trapped, there was no way out, he could hear the Carrows booted feet just around that last turn –

Neville yelped in surprise and a sudden spike in adrenalin as he was abruptly pulled backwards _through the wall behind him._

“ _What in_ _Merlin’s_ –”

“Shhh!” a voice hissed in the sudden darkness. Whoever had dragged Neville through the wall let go of the back of his robes. “They’ll hear you!”

Neville cautiously reset his reactions from _shit I’m in trouble,_ to _safe for the moment and probably dealing with a friendly_. He went still and silent, but didn’t lower his wand.

A moment later, there was a muffled shriek of rage from the other side of the stonework as the Carrows discovered that Neville had inexplicably disappeared from the dead-end corridor. Neville caught his breath, listening; but after a few minutes the sound of Alecto’s yelling dwindled into silence.

“ _Lumos_ ,” said a voice, one which was unexpectedly _young_ , and Neville turned around towards the source of the sudden light. He found himself squinting into the face of a kid aged about eleven or twelve, and wearing Hufflepuff colours on his robes. The kid was also grinning in a way that made Neville re-evaluate his earlier conclusion that he was safe and dealing with a friendly. Neville had been in the same House as the Weasley twins. He’d seen a similar grin on their faces a time or two.

Neville cast his mind around for what to say. A gracious _thanks for rescuing me_ was probably in order.

Instead, what emerged from his mouth was:

“You’re a Hufflepuff?”

“And proud,” said the kid, nodding. “Why? Have you got a problem with the ‘puffs?”

“Of course not,” said Neville, and asked a question of his own. “Aren’t you a little young to be running around defying Death Eaters?”

The kid looked at Neville.

“Considering that I’m old enough to be murdered by them for being muggleborn, I’m pretty sure I defy them just by existing,” he said, but Neville barely heard the second part of that statement.

“You’re _muggleborn?_ ” Neville could barely believe his ears.

In response the kid hiked up his robes. 

“You think any pureblood wizard wears shoes this awesome?” he asked, pointing downwards. Neville followed his gaze. Instead of the regulation black leather school shoes, the kid was wearing what were undoubtedly muggle shoes. They were an eye-watering shade of green which Neville doubted had ever been seen in nature.

Neville ignored the kid’s question.

“How did you get into the castle?” he asked, unable to believe that some muggleborn student had managed to sneak in without being caught by one of the teachers, and concerned for the boy’s safety. If anyone caught him…

Well. Neville was a pureblood wizard, and his scars would probably never fade. (Curse scars usually didn’t.) He didn’t like to think about what would happen to a _muggleborn_.

“I’ve been here for ages,” said the kid dismissively. “Caught the train, like everyone else. I’m just good at not being seen.” He grinned like he was enjoying an unspoken joke, before adding, “I would have stopped by, but your hiding place wouldn’t let me in.”

“You can only be let in from inside, and for someone to let you in you need the correct knock,” said Neville, staring at the kid. “You’ve really been here since the start of term?”

The kid nodded.

“I have. Now come on, I’ll walk you back to the disappearing room – these passages can be difficult to get out of on your own, since most of them have been bricked up.” The kid turned and began walking back down the narrow passage they were standing in.

“It’s called the Room of Requirement,” said Neville, following the kid. “How did you pull me through the wall like that?”

The kid only laughed.

“Magic,” he said, and wouldn’t explain any further.

But then, Neville supposed, that was fair. If he’d been a muggleborn students in Hogwarts under You-Know-Who’s rule, he probably wouldn’t have trusted anyone with the secret either.

They came to a dead-end, and the kid took Neville’s elbow.

“This might feel weird,” he warned.

“What –” Neville said, before he was pulled through the wall in front of him and into the openness of one of the proper school hallways. He looked around for his rescuer.

Neville blinked, and felt disoriented for a moment. Then he started walking back towards the Room of Requirement’s door.

Neville glanced both ways down the hallway he was in, before walking back and forth three times until the door appeared. Then he used the complicated knock that one of the Ravenclaw members of the D.A. had devised, and waited for the door to open.

It swung open a moment later, and Neville stepped forward.

“How’d it go?” Ginny asked, hurrying forward to meet him. Then she stopped, her eyes widening and her hand going for her wand. Neville spun, expecting a Death Eater, but his eyes landed on a barley-adolescent boy holding a silver chain necklace in both hands, as though he’d just taken it off.

Memory rushed back, filling in several blanks which Neville hadn’t even suspected were there, and Neville’s wand was aimed at the kid in an instant.

“Did you use a memory charm on me?” he demanded.

The kid didn’t look in the least intimidated.

“I’m twelve. You think I know that kind of magic?”

“Then how?” said Neville.

“It’s part of the magic of my necklace,” said the kid, with a shrug. “People don’t notice me when I wear it. Even if that means forgetting I was there a second ago.”

“Where did you get it?” Neville asked.

“My sister.”

“But I thought you said you were muggleborn?” asked Neville, at the same time as Ginny said, her voice thoughtful, “That sounds incredibly useful.”

“I _am_ muggleborn, by most definitions.” The kid was edging backwards, away from Ginny, his chain held in a white-knuckled grip. “And it’s _mine_. I’m not sharing.”

“No one’s going to take it from you,” said Neville, sending Ginny a look. “So is your sister muggleborn, then?”

“Nope,” said the kid. He was still looking a little warily at Ginny. 

“What do you mean, ‘by most definitions’?” Ginny asked, letting the issue of the necklace go, for the moment. 

Neville frowned, as he realised that Ginny had a point.

“I,” said the kid, “am a _prince_.”

“Right,” said Neville. “Sure you are.”

The kid gave a friendly grin.

“I know it sounds ridiculous. But I am.”

“A prince of what?” asked Jacinta, fourth-year Ravenclaw.

“That would be telling.”

“You’re a bit weird, aren’t you?” said Ginny. It was more a statement of fact than a question. “What’s your name?”

The kid smiled wide.

“Toby Williams,” he said. “Technically I’m a second year. Hufflepuff, obviously.”

“Can you be a second year if you aren’t going to classes?” Ginny asked. The other students in the Room were listening in with interest. Life in the Room of Requirement tended to be made up of long periods of boredom while inside it, interspersed with brief periods of great danger whenever they left it.

“Ah, but I am going to classes – it’s just that no one notices I’m there,” said Toby. “And I’ve even been handing in my assignments and everything, for the teachers who aren’t Death Eaters at least, so hopefully that counts.”

“You’re telling us that when muggleborns aren’t even allowed in the school, and when you can sneak around anywhere you choose, you’re using that power to _do schoolwork?”_ asked Jacinta. “You should have been a Ravenclaw, for sure.”

Toby laughed.

“I’m more loyal than I am interested in learning. But I’ll admit it’s a pretty close match.”

“So, little prince,” said Ginny. “If your sister’s not muggleborn, what is she?”

The laughter faded from Toby’s face, leaving him with an unexpectedly serious expression. He looked suddenly older than twelve, despite his cherubic looks.

“Historically,” said Toby, “wizards don’t exactly get along with people like my sister. So I think I’ll pass on telling you anything more. My sister will have to remain mysterious.”

Ginny, Neville saw, was looking dissatisfied with Toby’s answer. But some instinct at the back of Neville’s mind warned him that pressing the subject would be a bad idea, even if he didn’t know exactly why. Neville had found that listening to his instincts was usually important.

“But she’s magical, right?” asked Remy, one of the younger Gryffindor students.

A smile curved Toby’s mouth; amused yet wry, as though there was some deep irony in the question.

“Oh, she’s magical, all right. If you think that matters.” Toby promptly changed the subject, ending the discussion of his sister. “Anyway, I’m here for a reason. Since I can get anywhere in the school unnoticed, I was wondering if you’d like my help with shenanigans?”

“Shenanigans?” Seamus repeated, wandering over from the far side of the room to see what was going on. 

Toby grinned, but it wasn’t the friendly grin. This grin was the one that had reminded Neville of the Weasley twins.

“I’ve been doing what I can, putting potions in the Death Eaters food, tying their shoelaces together, that sort of thing,” said Toby, and his grin became downright frightening. “And I’ve seen what you’ve been up to: the _Dumbledore’s Army still recruiting_ graffiti, rescuing the kids chained up in the dungeons… you’ve got some good ideas. So what if we joined forces – you lot with your good ideas, and me able to get anywhere without being caught? Imagine the possibilities…”

Judging by the looks on the faces of everyone else clustered in their corner of the Room, Neville wasn’t the only one thinking hard about what Toby had suggested.

But –

“It could be dangerous,” said Neville, because for all that Toby had some magical necklace which kept him from gaining attention, that didn’t mean _someone_ amongst the staff might not have some device or spell which could counteract its effects. 

Neville couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head which might do so, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. Snape in particular seemed to have an uncanny skill for detecting students sneaking around where they weren’t supposed to be. Neville and Ginny’s attempt to steal the Sword of Gryffindor out of his office a little while ago was a good example. If anyone might be able to see past the enchantment on Toby’s necklace, it was him.

But Toby looked unbothered by the prospect.

“Even if my necklace stops working, I have a contingency plan,” he said. “But my sister said that my necklace should affect any witches and wizards I meet.” Toby grimaced. “The only ones I’m not sure of are the house elves.”

Neville had a glimmer of comprehension then, as though he’d almost put two and two together, but whatever thought was niggling at him slipped away before his mind could get a good grip on it. Neville frowned, but didn’t try to chase after the errant thought. If it was important enough, it would come back to him sooner or later.

“Why the house elves?” Seamus asked the obvious question.

Toby looked oddly furtive, as though he didn’t want to answer Seamus’ question, but he said, “Their magic works differently from witches and wizards. Since my sister’s never met a house elf, she couldn’t promise that the magic would fool them into thinking I wasn’t there. But she’s pretty sure they’ll ignore me, even if they do see me.”

“Why?” asked Ginny. 

There was another furtive look from Toby. 

“That’s private,” was all he said. “If my sister was here, they’d have to avoid her completely – but since I’m a wizard, I fall into a sort of grey area.”

Neville frowned.

“You realise that we have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Good,” said Toby, suddenly serious. “It’s better if you don’t. My family’s business isn’t something that should be shared with anyone else – especially where my sister is concerned.”

“You’re only raising more questions about your sister,” said Jacinta. “Now we’re all trying to imagine why you’re being so mysterious about her.”

Toby made a face.

“Imagine all you like – just don’t expect me to confirm or deny anything.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Seamus complained. Toby’s serious expression didn’t shift. He said nothing, but turned his head to look back at Neville.

It took Neville a moment to realise that Toby was waiting for him to speak. As soon as he’d realised that, Neville also realised that he hadn’t answered Toby’s earlier question about joining forces.

“If you really can get past anyone without being noticed, then Ginny’s right – that could be very useful,” said Neville. “Where have you been staying? Do you want to move in here with the rest of us?”

Toby looked considering.

“I don’t think so,” he said eventually. “I’ve been sneaking out of the castle at night to stay with my sister, and I think I’ll keep doing that. I mean, Elspeth would never forgive me if I stopped dropping by with news from Hogwarts. My sister’s got a Wizarding Wireless, and she and the others my sister’s offered sanctuary to have been listening to Potterwatch, but there hasn’t been much news from Hogwarts in it.”

Neville had been about to ask about the ‘others’ Toby’s sister had offered sanctuary to, but his attention was diverted by that last sentence.

“Potterwatch?” he asked, in chorus with about half a dozen voices. 

Toby looked around, blinking. He appeared bemused.

“You lot haven’t been listening to it? There’s a programme on tonight, I think – does anyone have a Wizarding Wireless somewhere in here?” 

“I can probably make one appear,” Neville offered. He closed his eyes and thought hard about it, even as Ginny asked, “What the hell is Potterwatch?” in a voice that demanded an answer, _right now._

“You’re not that scary, you know,” Toby said, before answering her question. “Potterwatch is an illegal broadcast, by members of the Resistance against You-Know-Who. No one knows exactly who the broadcasters are because they use codenames, but they provide all the news that the Wizarding Wireless Network doesn’t. Mostly they talk about the efforts to resist You-Know-Who, but every now and again they report on Harry Potter sightings. No idea whether any of the sightings are true, but they gives people hope.”

“There’s no way Harry’s not still fighting,” said Neville, when Ginny said nothing, but only clenched her hands into fists. “I know him. If he hasn’t made any appearances, it’s because he’s up to something important. He started the D.A., you know – back when we had Umbridge–”

Everyone who was listening collectively grimaced at the sound of Umbridge’s name being spoken. There were even a couple of ‘boo’s.

“–and he was getting detentions every day, being forced to write with a Blood Quill, but he refused to let the Ministry silence him. Harry’s been fighting You-Know-Who and his supporters all his life, and I’ve never seen him back down. If he’s not out there fighting the good fight, I know he has a damn good reason.”

There was a faint cheer from the others in the Room.

“Right,” said Toby, and looked at the table where a Wizarding Wireless now sat. “You know him better than I do, so I’ll trust your judgement. Does anyone have the time?”

“Fourteen minutes to six,” offered someone who was wearing a wizarding watch.

Toby’s eyes widened in slight surprise.

“Right on time, then; the next scheduled broadcast is supposed to be in about four minutes.” He walked over to the Wizarding Wireless and pulled out his wand. He tapped the Wizarding Wireless with it, and muttered, “ _Albus_.”

He turned the Wizarding Wireless on. Everyone waited in expectation.

At first there was only static, but after a few minutes that changed. Neville jolted as he recognised Lee Jordan’s voice speaking. After years of commentating Hogwarts Quidditch matches, his voice was unmistakeable.

Neville shook his head, and focused on what was being said.

“ _We have now found ourselves another secure location_ ,” said Lee, his voice still a little staticky. Toby turned the tuning dial, and the sound became crisper and easier to listen to. “ _And I’m pleased to tell you that two of our regular contributors have joined me this evening. Evening, boys!”_

__

_ “Hi.” _

__

_ “Evening, River.” _

“It’s Fred and George!” Seamus exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Neville looked quickly towards Ginny. She looked unutterably relieved to hear her brothers’ voices. Neville knew that she hadn’t heard from anyone in her family for weeks.

“… _take a moment to report those deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network and the Daily Prophet don’t think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell_ … _”_

Neville listened intently to the broadcast, taking in its mixture of hopeful and grim news. Everyone else in the Room crowded around the Wizarding Wireless so that they could hear it better. 

When the broadcast finally ended, about twenty minutes later, there was a hushed silence.

One of the Hufflepuff fifth years broke it.

“It’s not just us,” His voice was wondering. “People are fighting back.”

“They are,” said Toby, from where he was sitting on one of the hammocks that filled the Room. “All over Britain. That reminds me – if anyone has any muggleborn friends, write their names down, and I’ll see if they’ve been offered sanctuary by my sister. If they have, I can pass on messages.”

“You mean there’s somewhere the muggleborns can go that’s safe?” asked Remy.

Toby looked furtive again.

“Well,” he said. “Safe from the Death Eaters.”

“You’re not telling us something,” said Neville.

“I’m not telling you a lot,” Toby agreed readily. “Like I said, my sister’s business is best kept quiet. But she’s doing her best to help, even if there’s a price.”

“She’s charging a _price_ for saving lives?” said Ginny. Her voice made it clear what she thought of that.

Toby turned his head to look at Ginny, giving Neville a glimpse of one slightly-pointed ear.

“She doesn’t have a choice.” Toby sounded irritated.

Neville stared at Toby’s visible ear, and abruptly, his mind slotted together everything Toby had said, and he understood what had been niggling at him. His eyes blew wide and the blood drained from his face.

“ _Oh_ –” and he followed that up with a word which made the younger students goggle. Jacinta giggled at his use of profanity. The older students, who knew that Neville rarely swore unless the occasion called for it, looked alarmed.

“Nev?” Ginny glanced between him and Toby, knowing that something was wrong, but not what.

Neville scrubbed a hand over his face. On the one hand, Uncle Algie had told him enough terrifying stories of the fae that Neville was wary of being involved with them even peripherally. On the other, Toby – and his sister – seemed to be helping people against You-Know-Who.

Neville’s first instinct was to tell the others what he’d deduced, but he knew that probably wasn’t a wise move. If the member of the fae that Toby was representing didn’t want her involvement with the muggleborns known, then it was probably dangerous to advertise that information to others. 

Neville looked at Toby, who was gazing back at him solemnly. It was obvious that Toby knew that Neville had figured things out, and was waiting to see what Neville did with his knowledge.

“Just tell me,” said Neville, feeling awfully weary all of a sudden. “What price did they pay for sanctuary?”

“Innocence.” The word fell from Toby’s lips with suitable gravity. He understood the implications of what he was telling Neville, despite his young age. “Considering what’s going on in Britain, though, it was something they were always going to lose. For their lives, their freedom… it was a good bargain, really. My sister tried to make it as fair as she could.”

Neville wasn’t sure that he agreed with Toby that it was a good bargain… but thought that he was probably right about innocence being something the muggleborn kids were always going to lose, in the current political climate.

“What are you talking about?” asked Seamus. Ginny was frowning in concentration, clearly trying to figure out what Neville and Toby meant by their cryptic words.

“Pacts and promises,” said Toby, before Neville could answer.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Neville, even though it did, really. But what alternative was there? For the muggleborns _not_ to make the bargain, and get picked up by the Snatchers so that the Ministry could murder them? Some problems didn’t have a solution.

Neville changed the subject.

“Let’s figure out how Toby can help us rebel better against the Death Eaters inside this school,” he said, and there were excited murmurs from the others. “And then we can make a list of everyone we know who’s muggleborn so Toby can check whether they’re safe.”

As everyone clustered around Toby, Neville hoped that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

Neville would have given a lot for an invisibility cloak like Harry’s to get around in, but wherever he was, Harry probably needed it a lot more than Neville did. Besides, with Toby’s assistance, Dumbledore’s Army was able to step up their campaign several notches, escalating their rebellion to a new level.

Before he joined the D.A. Toby had been putting potions in the food of Death Eater teachers like the Carrows, but he had mostly been limited to simply things he could brew himself, like the potion which gave anyone who consumed it an itchy red rash. With the help of D.A.’s best potions brewers, Toby was able to deliver much more potent potions into their food.

Amycus Carrow was in the hospital for four days, vomiting uncontrollably, before Snape worked out the correct antidote. After that the Death Eaters wised up, and started checking their food for contamination.

But there were other ways to mess with them, and Neville was continually surprised by some of the things Toby was able to think up, even on his own.

He borrowed a camera off Sam Rochester in Ravenclaw one day without telling anyone why, and came back looking smugly amused. As soon as Sam developed the photographs, the rest of the D.A. all found out why.

There was laughter as the photographs were passed around.

“You dyed her hair green?” said Ginny, sounding impressed. Seamus was barely able to stand up, he was laughing so hard. Within the photographs, Alecto Carrow screamed and shook her fists in thwarted rage. Her hair was a sickly brownish-green.

“That’s not even the best part.” Toby looked proud of himself. “I used muggle hair dye, which is magically inert. Alecto thinks it’s some kind of obscure spell or potion, so she keeps trying different magical remedies which have no effect at all. I don’t even know whether she _knows_ that muggles have hair dye. Anyway, it should take a couple of months before the dye comes out properly – assuming that she washes her hair regularly.”

“I wouldn’t be sure of that,” said Cho. She’d rejoined the D.A. the week before… without Marietta Edgecombe, this time. Some of the D.A. still hadn’t forgiven Cho for siding with Marietta during the Umbridge fiasco two years ago, but they were slowly warming up to her. “Her hair is nearly as bad as Snape’s.”

“No one’s hair is as bad as Snape’s,” said Susan, to general laughter.

At times like that, it was difficult to remember that Toby was anything other than human.

As Christmas approached, everyone tried to keep their spirits up. It was difficult, with everything that was going on in the wizarding world, and with everyone separated from their families – those who still had families to go back to. Too many had lost family members. Other students in the D.A. had no idea whether or not their families were even alive.

Still – Neville got the Room to decorate itself with festive ornaments, and Irene even smuggled in some fairies to decorate the small Christmas tree that had been set up in the corner.

Sometimes it was hard to remember that Toby Williams was anything but human, but other times, it wasn’t. The moment Irene opened her coat, revealing the dozen or so fairies hidden underneath, they left Irene and flocked to Toby. 

Everyone was staring, but Toby only laughed as the fairies buzzed around him and chittered excitedly, landing on his shoulders and the top of his head. He talked back to them as though he was holding up one side of an animated conversation, smiling widely.

Zacharias Smith rolled his eyes, because he was still as much of a prat as ever, even if he did oppose You-Know-Who.

“Stop acting like you’re talking to them,” he told Toby. Neville winced, because Toby’s smile was already vanishing at Zachariah’s lofty tone. “Everyone knows that fairies don’t say anything intelligible.”

Toby sent Zacharias a withering look with an edge of something dangerous.

“Just because they don’t speak in any language _you_ can understand doesn’t mean all of us are so ignorant,” he said to Zacharias, and went right on talking back to the fairies. The other students giggled. Neville didn’t. He kept a wary eye on Toby.

“Honestly,” said Zacharias loudly, his face turning bright red, “some people are so childish, believing that fairies have any kind of intelligence–”

Toby cocked an eyebrow at the fairies, and nodded once.

Zacharias shrieked as an angrily-buzzing cloud of fairies descended on him, their tiny hands pinching, their opalescent teeth biting down hard. He drew his wand, and tried to take aim at the nearest tiny flying shape.

“Smith, don’t–” Neville began, his voice full of warning, his eyes on Toby’s darkening countenance, but too late.

“ _Reducto!_ ” Zacharias screamed, and the resulting curse just missed the nearest fairy. It splashed across one of the wall tapestries instead, leaving a large scorch mark.

“He’s trying to kill the fairies!” a Ravenclaw first-year shouted. Several younger years looked distressed, murmuring in protest.

Toby’s smile was completely gone. Instead, his expression was thunderous.

“Toby, _no_ –” said Neville, his voice urgent, unsure of what he was saying ‘no’ to exactly but knowing that Toby’s expression didn’t mean anything good.

Toby hesitated. Then he lowered his wand, and let out a chirping sound. The fairies flocked back to him, landing on his head and shoulders again. Toby turned away, his hands sliding into the pockets of his robes.

Neville began to relax. But Zacharias was bleeding and angry.

“I’m not afraid of a tiny second year like _him_ ,” said Zacharias. “Or his stupid fairies!” He raised his wand, ready to hex Toby.

Toby’s eyes flashed and he spun around, making a throwing motion with his left hand. Something shiny and glittering in the candlelight soared across the room in an arc, and shattered at Zacharias’ feet. 

“What–” Zacharias began, sneering. The next second his eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed. Toby moved towards one of the hammocks as though nothing had happened.

“ _What did you do?!”_ Neville bellowed, darting across the room to check on his fallen comrade. Zacharias was a prat, and he shouldn’t have taunted Toby or tried to harm the fairies, but that didn’t mean he deserved to be hurt. 

“He’ll be fine.” When Neville looked up, Toby was lounging in one of the hammocks with one foot on the floor and the other in the hammock, swaying gently and covered in fairies. “He’s just living some nightmares, that’s all.”

“You–” Neville covered his face with his hand for a moment. “Toby. Undo the spell, please.”

“Can’t,” said Toby. “He’s stuck there until it ends.”

There were some questions Neville didn’t really want to know the answer to. He asked one of them anyway.

“Stuck _where?_ ”

Toby gave a little sliver of a smile. One of the fairies cooed and began plaiting his hair with tiny hands. Toby didn’t seem to notice, or else just didn’t care.

“Elsewhere.”

Considering what Neville knew of Toby, that response made far too much sense.

“Neville!” Ginny pushed her way through the crowd from the opposite side of the gigantic Room. “I heard you shout. What–” She saw Zacharias. “What happened to him?”

“Toby cursed him,” said Neville.

By this point, Ginny had noticed Toby and the flock of fairies. 

“He was trying to kill the fairies,” said Toby. There was no forgiveness in his voice, only a protective kind of fury.

Ginny sent Zacharias a considering look.

“Well, I can’t say he didn’t have it coming – someone was bound to curse him sooner or later. Another week or two sharing the Room with him, and it would have been me. What did you curse him with?”

“Nightmares,” said Toby. 

Ginny’s eyes lit with interest.

“Can you curse the Death Eaters with nightmares?”

“Not really,” said Toby. “I only had the one crystal. It was supposed to be for an emergency only. I’ll have to borrow another one off the person who makes them, but I’m sure he’ll understand why I wasted one.”

Toby’s eyes slid along to the huddle of first and second years who had been distressed by Zacharias attempts to curse the fairies. They still looked upset.

“Hey,” Toby called to them. “Do you want to see something cool?”

One of the girls nodded hesitantly.

Toby smiled, and began to sing in a light, melodious voice.

“ _The first time ever she saw him/Carried away by a moonlight shadow He passed on worried and warning/Carried away by a moonlight shadow Lost in a riddle that Saturday night/Far away on the other side He was caught in the middle of a desperate fight And she couldn't find how to push through…”_

Halfway through the first verse, the fairies all began humming along in perfect harmony. More students gathered around him, ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ over the spectacle.

While no one was paying attention, Ginny pulled Neville aside.

“That wasn’t a normal spell, was it?” she asked, in an undertone. Neville shook his head.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Is Toby dangerous?” asked Ginny.

Neville hesitated.

“Not to us, I don’t think. And not on his own. But his family… I think they’re really dangerous, Ginny. Be careful what you say around him.”

Ginny glanced at Toby, still singing about someone carried away by a moonlight shadow, and surrounded by humming fairies and awestruck students.

“I will be.”

* * *

Zacharias woke late the next morning, pale and shaky. One look at Toby and he blanched even further, and fled to the other side of the Room muttering about glitter and goblins. Neville deliberately didn’t ask. He figured he was better off not knowing.

Besides a sudden twitchiness and fear of being anywhere near Toby, Zacharias seemed unharmed; most of the students had experienced worse at the hands of the Carrows and those who followed in the Carrows’ footsteps. What was more, Zacharias seemed overnight to have learned to be more careful about his casual insults, which was something which would only help him in the long run. Ginny was right – sooner or later, someone in the D.A. would have cursed him, the way he’d been getting on everyone’s nerves. If Zacharias could learn to hold his tongue, he’d get into a lot less trouble.

Toby, for his part, seemed to think that the nightmares were vengeance enough, because after that he was perfectly sunny-tempered, as usual. While he came and went from the Room, never staying too long, whenever he was there it was guaranteed that the fairies were clustered around him.

On Christmas Day Neville was woken early by the sound of squealing. He came awake instantly, and was reaching for his wand when he realised that the sounds were from excitement, not terror. He rolled out of the hammock with practiced ease, and walked over to the crowd that was forming in the middle of the Room, where there was now a table large enough to seat everyone inside it. The tablecloth was decorated with tiny embroidered candy canes and gingerbread houses, and there was silver cutlery and crockery laid out in each place setting.

Toby was at the centre of the crowd, pulling things out of a hamper which must have been enchanted to be bigger on the inside, because Toby was currently struggling, even with the assistance of two fellow Hufflepuffs, to lift a pan containing a gigantic roast turkey out of it. 

“Let me help,” said Neville, raising his wand. He carefully levitated the pan out of the hamper, and lowered it down onto the table.

“Thanks,” said Toby. “Can you levitate this glazed ham?”

Neville helped as one by one, delicious-smelling dishes of food were lifted out of the hamper. By the time Toby was done, there was a veritable feast covering the table, and the rest of the D.A. were pushing to get to the table and seat themselves, murmuring in excitement.

“Toby, I ask this with respect, but how the hell did you get all this for us?” asked Seamus.

Toby looked a little bashful. He muttered something, too low to be heard.

“What?”

“I asked for a feast for you guys as my Christmas present this year,” he said, and this time Neville and the others standing next to him were able to hear and understand his words. “From my sister and her… is there a word for someone who’s in courtship with someone?”

“Potential betrothed?” one of the Ravenclaws offered.

“Right, her potential betrothed,” said Toby. “Anyway, my sister arranged it all with a muggle catering firm, and then we stuck it all in the hamper.”

“That’s really generous of you,” said Susan, her voice full of approval.

Toby rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing.

“Well. I figured this has been a terrible year for everyone… I thought a surprise feast might raise people’s spirits a bit. So… merry Christmas, everyone.”

“Good job, Toby,” said Neville. Toby blushed even further, and ducked his head, looking embarrassed but pleased.

“Yeah, it all looks fantastic!” said Jacinta happily. “Neville, can we start eating?”

“Make sure everyone’s awake and sitting at the table first,” said Neville. “Then we can start.”

It took another ten minutes or so to wake those who were still asleep in their hammocks, and Ginny had to threaten to hex anyone who tried to start eating without them, but finally everyone was seated at the long table.

“Tuck in!” Neville called out, and everyone began to serve themselves food onto their plates, laughing and chattering. The mood in the Room was the lightest that Neville could remember, a bright point in a low few months.

Somehow, Neville had ended up sitting next to Toby.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Neville asked the younger boy, when he saw that Toby’s plate was empty.

Toby shook his head.

“In about half an hour I need to head back home,” he said. “My sister and my parents will be waiting for me. I’ll eat with them.”

“You’ve never mentioned your parents before,” said Hannah, from Toby’s other side. “Your sister, but not your parents.”

“They’re muggles,” Toby said, making Neville’s face wrinkle in confusion. “Well, my Mum’s a squib, technically, but she was left in the muggle world when she was a kid and was adopted, so she doesn’t know all that much about the wizarding world, really – particularly not in Britain, since she grew up in America. There’s a lot I can’t talk to my parents about because they just don’t get it. Especially with You-Know-Who in power. They know things aren’t good, but they don’t understand how bad it is, and I don’t want them to.”

Toby saw the look on Neville’s face.

“I _said_ that I was muggleborn,” Toby reminded him. “It’s just that my sister isn’t.”

“How does that work?” asked Susan, from next to Hannah.

Toby shrugged.

“My sister was from our Dad’s first marriage. Then he got divorced and married my Mum, so…”

Neville narrowed his eyes, because Toby had the furtive look again, which Neville had learned meant that the boy wasn’t telling the whole truth even if what he had said was technically true. Toby would lie if he had to, but he’d much rather mislead than lie outright. 

But Neville let it slide, and instead focused on eating his food while listening to the conversations going on around him.

Twenty minutes later Toby farewelled them all, and left the Room so that he could head home for Christmas Day.

“This was incredibly generous of him,” said Hannah, once he was gone. “To ask for this as a Christmas present so that we would all get something nice, and then he didn’t even eat any of it.”

“A true Hufflepuff,” said Susan, with pride in her voice. “Puts his loyalty and kindness to others first.”

Zacharias scowled.

“He’s not that kind,” he muttered, no doubt thinking about the nightmares Toby had given him.

“You were going to curse him,” Hannah pointed out, turning pink as everyone looked at her. “I was watching. And I’d have cursed you too, if I was a twelve year old who loved fairies.”

“You _were_ a twelve year old who loved fairies.” Susan nudged her.

“Exactly, so I know what I’m talking about.”

Neville sighed. Cursing each other wasn’t right, but unfortunately it was a fact of life in this school. People took wands everywhere they went, and no one’s temper was perfect. Sometimes curses happened.

“Even if Zacharias provoked Toby, cursing him wasn’t right,” said Neville. “But Zacharias – you shouldn’t have tried to hurt the fairies, _or_ attempted to hex a second year. You’re old enough to know better.”

Zacharias had looked smug at the beginning of Neville’s little speech, but by the end of it he was scowling again.

“Yeah – the kid’s only twelve,” said Seamus. “Trying to hex him was a bit low, Smith.”

Zacharias looked like he was about to speak up in his own defence, but went quiet instead, no doubt remembering what he’d brought upon himself last time.

After the feast was over everyone piled the used dishes back into Toby’s hamper (minus those that the Room had magicked up), and broke up into little groups. 

Most of the older students either sat around chatting, or else climbed into their hammocks to sleep off the large meal. But the younger students started a game of tag, chasing one another around the Room.

Neville wished, not for the first time, that he could see his Gran. The last letter he’d written to her had been sent about a month ago, thanks to Toby sneaking up to the owlery on his behalf. But there was no safe way to receive a reply, and so Neville had no idea how she was doing. It worried him. Still, his Gran was the toughest person he knew – hopefully that would be enough to see her through You-Know-Who’s reign unscathed.

Neville was drawn out of his thoughts by Hannah sitting in the armchair next to his.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Neville shrugged a bit.

“I’m worried about my Gran.”

Hannah’s face softened.

“I know what you mean – I miss my Dad something fierce.” Neither of them mentioned her Mum, who had been killed by Death Eaters the year before. Hannah’s Mum had been a muggle, and the Death Eaters had murdered her for daring to marry a pureblood wizard. They’d let Hannah’s father live, but from what Hannah had said, he hadn’t been the same afterwards. The Death Eaters had forced him to watch.

Neville supposed that in his shoes, he wouldn’t have been the same either.

“I had an idea I wanted to run past you,” Hannah said, after a moment’s silence. “I thought that maybe we could get the younger years to make Christmas cards for their families, and have Toby smuggle them out. That way their families will know that they’re safe.”

“That’s a nice idea,” said Neville. “But do we have the supplies?”

“I know Ernie has some coloured sketching pencils in his trunk,” said Hannah. “As long as the kids are careful with them, he’d probably lend them to us. And between everyone, we should have enough parchment for all the younger cards to make a card.”

Neville considered the idea.

“Alright.” 

After checking with Ernie about the pencils and receiving the go-ahead, Neville called all the younger kids together and let Hannah explain her idea. Faces visibly brightened.

Fifteen minutes later, and the younger years were busy sitting at the long table in the centre of the room, taking turns to use the different coloured pencils. Some of the more skilled children were creating line drawings first using black ink, and then colouring in the picture with Ernie’s pencils. Ernie himself had joined them, and was doing small Christmas-themed illustrations for the kids who weren’t any good at drawing. 

Ernie wasn’t an especially accomplished artist – amongst Neville’s year, that honour belonged to Dean Thomas, who like most of the muggleborns hadn’t come back to school this year – but he was a decent one, and the younger students all seemed happy with his doodles of mice wearing scarves and hats, or Christmas trees with piles of presents under them.

The thought of Dean made Neville wonder where his friend was right now. Dean had always been closer to Seamus than anyone else, but you couldn’t share a dormitory with someone for years without becoming friends. Neville had been the only one who shown any interest in learning about football, Dean’s favourite sport, while Dean had been the only one in their dorm who was willing to listen to Neville ramble on about his garden back home.

Neville fervently hoped that Dean was okay, wherever he was. 

Neville walked over to Ernie and the kids to see what how were doing with their Christmas cards. 

“Can you draw me a cat wearing a scarf?” one of the first-years was asking.

“Sure,” said Ernie. “A cat with long hair or short hair?”

“Long hair, please!”

Neville found himself smiling as Ernie drew a long-haired cat wearing a scarf, the fur on top of its head gathered together with a tiny bow.

Things were dire, yes; but it wasn’t time to give up hope. Not yet.

* * *

Toby returned to them two days later with a long list of names in his pocket. He pinned it to one wall, and people crowded around it, reading off the different names.

“Everyone who’s claimed sanctuary,” Toby said, as people tried to keep back tears of relief as they spotted the names of their friends, or bit their lip in worry when they didn’t find the names that they were looking for. “It’s mostly the younger years, because that’s who I was able to warn, but… if they’re on the list, they’re alive and well.”

Neville scanned the list for Dean’s name, and tried to repress the disappointment he felt when it wasn’t there. But then, Dean was in a different House from Toby, and much older. It made sense that the warning hadn’t been passed on to him. Or perhaps it had, and Dean hadn’t been able to pay the price of sanctuary.

Once everyone had checked the list, Toby distracted them all by pulling a muggle device out of his pocket.

“Who wants to listen to muggle music?” he asked, projecting his voice so that most of those inside the Room could hear him.

“Muggle devices don’t work in Hogwarts,” said one of the Ravenclaws.

Toby grinned.

“This one does – it’s enchanted to run on magic, although it’ll only play songs from before 1969.”

“Enchanting muggle devices is illegal,” said Seamus, but he was grinning back at Toby.

“I’m pretty sure everything we do is illegal,” said Neville, his voice dry. His comment earned him several laughs.

Toby sent a smile Neville’s way, before thumbing a switch on the side of the device.

Music like nothing Neville had ever heard before filled the Room. It was bright and energetic, and nothing like the crooning ballads which could be heard on the Wizarding Wireless.

“… _can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me_ ,” a male voice sang, accompanied by a deeply thrumming instrument and a set of drums. “ _Girl you just don’t realise/What you do to me. When you hold me in your arms so tight/You let me know everything’s alright–”_

__

“I-I-I-I-I-I’M HOOKED ON A FEELING!” Toby half-sang, half-bellowed, in perfect sync with the singer of the song.

He offered a hand to Susan, who was watching in bemusement. She took it. Toby pulled the older girl into the empty space near the centre of the Room and into a simple waltz.

“You’re not bad at this,” said Susan, laughing as the two of them waltzed around the room, completely out of time with the music. Some of the other students began to dance as well.

“My friend Elspeth taught me,” Neville heard Toby say. The younger boy was smiling. “There’s not much else to do where she is, once the sun goes down, and she said that if I was going to go around dancing with people the way that J– I mean, like my sister’s potential betrothed does, then I should learn to do it properly.”

“I saw her name on the list,” said Susan. “How is she?”

Toby shrugged, an element of seriousness returning to his face despite his smile. 

“Much the same as everyone else who’s claimed sanctuary. They have to help provide for themselves, and be careful to avoid the dangers they’ve been warned about, but my sister’s been looking after them. She’s good at that. She basically raised me, you know.”

Susan looked surprised.

“But your parents…”

“They both have careers and work every day except weekends. When I wasn’t at school for the day, it was usually Sarah who was looking after me.”

“Hannah told me that muggles go to a big school like Hogwarts when they turn five years old,” said Susan. “In the wizarding world, no one goes to school until they start at Hogwarts. Our parents teach us, or hire tutors if they have the money.”

Toby nodded.

“I know,” he said. “In some ways it must be nice, spending so much time with your family. Probably the education is better with trained teachers, though.”

Neville stopped listening in about then, because Hannah approached him, blushing, and asked if he wanted to dance.

All Neville’s hard-won confidence deserted him.

“I – I’d love to,” he stammered. He took Hannah’s hand, stepping forward to place his other hand on her waist, blushing nearly as hard as she was.

“Go Neville!” someone shouted. It sounded like Toby. The laughter was definitely Susan’s.

Neville finally dared to meet Hannah’s eyes. She smiled at him even though she was still blushing, and he smiled back.

They danced for a while, to a tune that wasn’t designed to be waltzed to. Neville began to relax, and to genuinely enjoy dancing with Hannah in his arms. Even when the music was fast and lively, they moved slowly around the Room, following the steps of the waltz.

“You’ve been so brave, you know,” Hannah murmured. “Fighting the Carrows and the other teachers, even when they’ve tortured you for it. Everyone looks up to you.”

Neville swallowed.

“I’m not – I’m not that impressive. Not like Harry.”

“But Harry’s not here. I’m sure that whatever he’s doing is important, but he’s not the one that’s fighting what’s happening here and now. _You_ are.”

Neville didn’t know what to say. But Hannah smiled at him, the expression soft and tender. They continued dancing until Toby finally turned the music off and slid the enchanted muggle device back into his pocket.

Neville remembered the Christmas cards.

“Toby!” he called out.

Toby came over, his expression inquiring.

“Some of the others made Christmas cards for their families,” Neville explained, leading him over to the table where the Christmas cards were. 

They’d had to steal a stack of envelopes from McGonagall’s office, which Neville felt a little bad about, but the pile of cards were all sitting in envelopes with each family’s address written on it in Hannah’s neat cursive.

“Can you get the owls to deliver them?” Neville asked. Toby looked thoughtful.

“I might not be able to send them all at once, but I should be able to. I’ll need a bag so that I don’t drop any of them.”

No one in the Room, it turned out, had a bag.

“I’ll have to borrow one of Mum’s tote bags or something,” said Toby. “I’ll take the cards with me next time I’m here. Probably tomorrow.”

“Alright,” said Neville.

But the events of the next day drove all thoughts of Christmas cards from his mind.

* * *

Neville and Ginny were still leaving the Room on a regular basis to sabotage the Death Eaters efforts and leave rebellious graffiti. Usually they had Toby as a look-out, but that wasn’t always possible.

Neville had plans to check the dungeons so that he could free the Carrows’ torture victims, but the moment he stepped outside the Room of Requirement, something heavy thudded into the side of his skull.

Everything went black.

When Neville came back to consciousness, there was metal biting into his wrists, and hard stone beneath him. His head ached something terrible. His heart lurched as he realised that he’d been caught. 

He opened his eyes a crack, just enough to see his surroundings, but Alecto Carrow gave a crow of delight from where she was sitting watching him.

“You’re awake!” she said, full of evil glee. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out where you and the others were hiding?”

“I did think it was beyond your capabilities, yeah,” said Neville.

That earned him a kick across the face. Neville tasted blood. But that was nothing new where the Carrows were concerned. This was just Alecto getting warmed up. Neville began preparing himself for much worse tortures.

By the time Amycus Carrow showed up Neville was beaten, bloody and bruised. 

“Muggle methods, Alecto?” Amycus asked his sister. 

Alecto cackled. 

“Well, since he loves muggles so much…”

Amycus pointed his wand at Neville.

“Now, Longbottom, you’re going to tell us how to get to the rest of your little gang, or…”

“Or you’ll end up just like your parents,” said Alecto with a laugh.

The jibe about his parents stung, but Neville only glared through his blackened eyes as best his could.

“Go t’hell,” he said, his words slurred. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to hit.

“ _Cruc_ –” 

But Amycus’ curse cut off abruptly. There was a sound of startled surprise from Alecto, and then silence.

“Neville!”

Neville tried to open his eyes. Beneath swollen eyelids, he could just make out Toby’s blurry face, his silver necklace glinting in the dim light where it was wrapped around his hand.

“T’by, get out’o’here, y’ll get caught.”

But Toby acted like he didn’t hear.

“Is there a spell for unlocking chains?” he asked, his expression anxious. “There’s a key near the door, but it’s made of iron, just like the chains.”

Neville shook his head, only to regret the motion as the entire world spun.

“The chains – spellp’f,” he managed against the dizziness, closing his eyes again. “ _Go_ –”

“No way,” said Toby. His footsteps retreated, and there was a hiss of pain before his footsteps returned. There was the clinking of metal against metal.

A moment later the metal cuff around Neville’s right wrist was suddenly open. Neville opened his eyes and turned his head, watching as Toby unlocked the one around his left wrist. 

“You need to stand up, quick,” said Toby, his face unusually pale. “Before anyone comes looking for these two. Can you do it?”

“H’lp me’p,” said Neville. With the smaller boy’s help he managed to stand. Barely.

“We need to go.” Toby’s voice came from a spot near Neville’s shoulder. He sounded worried.

“Can’t,” said Neville. He swayed. The world was spinning again.

He closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Toby was taking deep breaths.

“Think, Toby, think,” the younger boy was muttering to himself. 

There was a moment’s silence. 

“Damn it, I can’t think of anything.” A pause. “Except, maybe… yeah, that might work.”

“What’re y’th’nking?” Neville asked.

“You’ll find out, if it works. Close your eyes, and step forward when I tell you to.”

Neville wanted to ask why, but Toby’s voice sounded strained.

“Alright,” Neville mumbled. He trusted Toby.

A minute passed. Toby’s breathing deepened, as though he was preparing himself for something.

“Step forward, _now!_ ”

Neville stepped forward. In the same moment, something went _twang_ all around them. The next, Neville went tumbling forward as Toby collapsed.

Neville experienced a moment of disorientation at the pale orange sky and open air when he’d been in Hogwarts a moment before, but fought it off to crawl to Toby’s side.

The other boy was clearly unconscious, lying sprawled amongst the grass and morning glories which surrounded the two of them. His hands were a bright, blistered red.

There was a sound like a thunderclap, and a woman’s voice exclaimed, “ _Toby!_ ”

Neville turned his head, reaching for his wand before remembering that the Carrows had taken it off him. Then he stopped and stared, all thought of fight or flight forgotten.

He was looking at a beautiful young woman in a flowing white gown, a shining tiara atop her head. Her hair was hanging in a plait over one shoulder, violets interwoven with it. One pointed ear was clearly, tellingly visible from where Neville was kneeling by Toby’s side.

Neville could just make out the horror on the woman’s face before she ran to Toby’s side, falling on her knees next to him. A second later the woman grabbed Neville by one shoulder. He yelped in pain.

The woman swiftly let go, but said,

“What _happened?”_

Toby’s hair was strawberry blonde and the woman’s was a rich shade of brown, but if Neville ignored that, the woman’s face was uncannily like Toby’s. 

Neville relaxed slightly as he realised that the woman was probably Toby’s sister, and he and Toby were safe for the moment.

“The C’rrows caught me. Had m’chained up in the dungeons, t’ruring me. T’by rescued me. Brought ’s here.”

“From the _castle?_ No wonder he passed out! Getting past Hogwarts’ wards must have taken everything he had.” The woman examined Toby carefully, and looked distressed as she noticed his burns. “What happened to his _hands?_ ”

It took Neville a moment to remember Toby talking about the key to Neville’s chains being iron, and to realise that was probably what had caused the burns. Neville’s head was foggy, and it was difficult to think. Still, that seemed like something that Toby’s sister should know.

“Iron,” Neville said to her. 

“Oh, no,” said Toby’s sister. “That means I can’t do anything but treat his injuries the non-magical way. Damn it.” She sat back, sighing. “Well, I suppose it could be worse.”

She seemed to notice Neville then, in a way she hadn’t before, her eyes actually focusing on him instead of skimming past him this time.

“Oh, look at you,” she said, and looked distressed. “Someone really did a number on you, didn’t they? Here, let me help.”

She started to reach out a hand towards Neville’s face, but seemed to remember something. Her hand went to the pocket on her gown instead. She pulled a wand out of her gown pocket, and tapped it gently against Neville’s temple.

A wonderful coolness spread out from where the wand had touched him, and Neville found himself able to think clearly again, even as the swelling and the pain was dramatically reduced.

“There we go,” said the fae woman in front of him. Now that Neville could see properly, he realised that she was even more lovely than he’d first thought, her expression gentle and concerned. He felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him.

“Er,” he managed, flushing.

But Toby’s sister was climbing to her feet. With a wave of her wand, Toby was floating in the air, his body supported by an invisible force.

A second later, the two of them were somewhere else entirely.

Neville bit back a swearword as he found himself standing in a spacious room. Outside the window was the same pale orange sky as before. Toby’s sister paid Neville’s confusion no attention, too busy lowering Toby onto the bed in front of her.

“Well, well,” said a voice. Neville spun to see who had spoken, and found himself looking at a man whose entire appearance screamed _fae_. Whoever he was, he was looking at Neville with a disgusted frown.

Neville gulped, his hand twitching for the wand he didn’t have, but the man’s gaze transferred itself from Neville to Toby’s sister.

“My dear Sarah,” the man drawled, “why have you brought a wizard into my kingdom?” His folded arms left no doubt of his displeasure.

Toby’s sister looked up.

“Toby brought him into my kingdom,” she said. “I’ll take him back to the mortal realm in a minute, but – I needed to see Toby safe, first. I figured that the goblins can keep an eye on him here.”

The man’s eyes went to the figure on the bed, and his frown deepened.

“What happened?”

“He freed this young man from Death Eaters and brought him here, I gather,” said Sarah. “But you know what the wards at Hogwarts are like. They might not be as good as keeping people like us in as they are keeping us out, but Toby’s not all that powerful, yet. I’m surprised he made it here at all.” Her face twisted a little. “He has some nasty burns on his hands that his friend said were caused by iron.”

Both members of the fae looked to Neville. He felt compelled to explain.

“The Carrows had me in iron chains in the dungeons. I told Toby to leave me there, but he wouldn’t.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” said Sarah, with a sigh. “Toby doesn’t abandon people when they need him.”

She looked down at her brother, her distress obvious. But the man was still looking at Neville, his gaze calculating.

“Neville Longbottom,” the man said suddenly, and Neville tensed. “I remember you.”

“I’m sorry?” 

The man smiled, a slow, unpleasant curve of the mouth that made Neville feel even more edgy than before. 

“Oh, yes. Your Uncle Algernon almost wished you away, when he thought you were a squib. Why, if it wasn’t for your grandmother sending him away when she realised what he intended to do, you would be one of my goblins right now.”

Neville swallowed as he realised who the frightening man in front of him was.

“You’re the Goblin King.” And then, for some reason he blurted out: “Uncle Algie told me about you.”

It wasn’t actually all the surprising to hear that Uncle Algie had almost wished him away. But the realisation that this was the reason why Neville’s Gran had forbidden his visits until Neville got his Hogwarts letter warmed Neville’s heart.

The Goblin King chuckled.

“And am I as fearsome as in his stories, young wizard?”

“Worse,” said Neville honestly. 

He managed a bow, because manners were important. When dealing with the high fae, particularly fae royalty, they could mean the difference between a pleasant fate and a highly unpleasant one. Neville was suddenly, intensely grateful for Uncle Algie’s stories, even though they’d left him terrified as a child. At least Neville had an idea of what he was dealing with. 

“I thank you and Lady Sarah for your hospitality, your Majesty.”

The Goblin King’s frown lightened a little.

“Well, at least you have manners,” he said, and then, “and Sarah’s title is more properly Queen of the Labyrinth.”

“But Lady Sarah is fine,” said the Queen of the Labyrinth. She looked at the Goblin King. “Can you get – Neville, was it? – back to the castle? Somewhere _safe_ ,” she added, with sudden fierce emphasis.

The Queen of the Labyrinth and the Goblin King looked at each other. There was a moment’s struggle of wills between them.

“Very well,” said the Goblin King, turning away. “But only to indulge you, precious.”

He threw a crystal at Neville’s feet, and a moment later, Neville was standing in the Room of Requirement: shaken, a bit bruised, but otherwise fine.

He found himself on the business end of a dozen wands, before everyone realised that it was him.

“ _Neville!_ ” Hannah looked like she was about to cry with relief. “We thought the Carrows had you!”

“But you can’t apparate in Hogwarts,” said a Ravenclaw sixth year, sounding bewildered.

“Are you okay?” Ginny’s gaze scanned Neville, cataloguing his superficial injuries. “What happened?”

“Toby rescued me. You don’t need to know any more than that.”

“Where is he?” asked Susan. “Is he alright, too?”

Neville hesitated, no wanting to lie to anyone.

“He’s – tired himself out, I think. And his hands were injured. He’s gone off to be with his sister. It’ll probably be a few days before we see him again, at least.”

There were some concerned frowns for Toby’s sake, but several faces looked suddenly interested.

“Did you get to meet his sister?” asked Hannah.

“I did.”

“What was she like?” asked Jacinta. “Was she as mysterious as Toby made out?”

“No one could be as mysterious as Toby made out,” said Seamus.

“Actually, Toby understated things,” said Neville. “Although she seemed nice enough. I was more worried about her boyfriend, or whatever he was.”

The Queen of the Labyrinth had been kind, despite her air of otherworldly power. But the Goblin King had struck Neville as genuinely terrifying. The legends did him complete justice.

“Potential betrothed,” corrected one of the Ravenclaws. “Courtship is different from modern dating.”

“Why, what was worrying about her boyfriend?” asked Susan, completely ignoring the correction.

“He was frightening,” said Neville, unable to convey the menace which the Goblin King had emanated, nor the way the air had taken on an electrified quality while Neville was in his presence.

“He wasn’t a Death Eater, was he?” asked Ginny. Neville snorted.

“Nothing like. He doesn’t like Death Eaters any more than he liked me, I suspect. I was lucky that Toby’s sister was looking out for me.”

“After seeing you with the Carrows, I can’t imagine someone who would scare you,” said Hannah, her voice thoughtful. Everyone fell silent at that, as though trying to imagine what would scare Neville.

Neville frowned, because he wasn’t some kind of fearless hero. Not like Harry.

“Of course some people scare me. I just… keep going anyway. What else would I do – let people like the Carrows do as they liked? Someone has to stop them.”

“Bravery is facing your fear, not the absence of it,” said Cho, and she smiled at Neville.

Neville shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure that bravery had anything to do with it – someone had to stop the Death Eaters, and if not him, then who? People disclaiming responsibility for those like You-Know-Who and his followers was part of what had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

He said as much, but Seamus just clapped him on the shoulder and said, “You’re a true Gryffindor, Nev, and don’t ever think otherwise.”

* * *

Toby didn’t show up again for another week. But show up he eventually did, strolling into the Room of Requirement from the passage in the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. He probably hadn’t been able to find the door into the Room from inside the castle, since Neville had it moving around to different locations. The Room seemed to want the Death Eaters to find it as little as Neville and the D.A. did.

“Toby!” Susan came over and gave him a hug, which seemed to alarm him. “Are you okay? Neville said you were injured rescuing him.”

Susan let Toby go, and he took a step back, putting space between them.

“I’m fine. My hands were injured, but my sister’s got me wearing gloves to protect them. See?” He held up his hands to show off the gloves, wiggling his fingers.

“But you’re really okay?” Susan pressed. Toby gave her a smile.

“Pretty much.”

“Good. Us Hufflepuffs were worried about you.”

Toby put a hand over his heart, as though wounded.

“Only the ‘puffs?”

“Not just them,” Jacinta called out from her hammock. “We’re all glad you’re alright.”

Toby let his hand drop, and smiled.

“Thanks.”

Just then a buzzing cloud of fairies descended on him. No one had been able to make them leave after the Christmas season was over. The fairies had evaded every attempt to catch them, and in the end Neville had told the others to let them be.

Toby laughed as he was covered with fairies.

“I’m fine,” he said to the chittering fairies. “Hey, no don’t do that,” he told a fairy that was trying to tug off one of his gloves. “My hands were hurt. I need those.”

The fairy let out a chirp, and stopped tugging at the glove.

“Do you really understand them?” asked Charity, who was a first-year Ravenclaw. Ginny had rescued her from the dungeons a couple of weeks before Christmas. “Our textbook says that they’re classified as beasts, not beings.”

“The beings/beasts categorisation system is fundamentally flawed,” said Toby. “Just because wizards can’t communicate with a species doesn’t mean they’re not people. Lack of comprehension on the wizards’ part doesn’t mean lack of sentience on the other side. Besides – why should wizards alone be the ones who get to decide who’s a being with rights, and who’s a beast who doesn’t?”

Charity looked confused.

“And yes, I do understand them,” Toby added. “Call it a family knack.”

“I’m surprised your sister let you come back,” said Neville. “She seemed awfully worried.”

Toby made a face.

“I _know_. It’s nice, but it’s also annoying. It took me _days_ to convince her to let me come back this time, and only because I promised I’d bring her here straight away if I found myself in trouble.” He sighed. “She wasn’t happy I didn’t do that when I found you, instead of risking myself.”

“I agree with her,” said Neville. Toby looked betrayed. Neville lowered his voice. “No, Toby. Next time, don’t come yourself. They used _iron chains_ , Toby. Imagine what that could have done to you.”

Toby went a little green at the thought, but said, “I don’t abandon my friends.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just – next time, don’t go alone, alright? Get someone to help you.”

“Why would iron chains be worse than anything else?” asked Susan, frowning. Neville remembered too late that she didn’t know what Toby was. He frowned guiltily.

Toby shot Susan a defiant look.

“Because iron doesn’t agree with me,” he said, before Neville could tell Susan to forget what she’d just heard. “Figure it out.”

Neville groaned.

“ _Toby_ –”

It wasn’t surprising when Susan’s eyes went wide in comprehension a few seconds later. Covered in fairies as he was, with pointy ears and an admitted bad reaction to iron, Toby was practically screaming _I am fae_ aloud.

“You’re joking,” said Susan, careful not to be overheard by the others. “I mean – you’re _not_. You can’t be. They’re just… stories.”

“They aren’t,” said Neville. “Trust me on that.”

“Then…” Susan looked from him to Toby. “The Great War was true, too?”

“It was,” said Toby. He was looking wary, but Neville didn’t think that he had anything to fear from Susan. She looked intrigued rather than frightened. 

“But I’m mostly a wizard,” Toby added. “So I can use my magic just fine, and since I’m also a student, the Hogwarts wards let me in. But then, my Hogwarts letter probably counted as an invitation.”

Susan looked fascinated.

“That’s really interesting.” 

“So you’re not going to tell anyone? Not going to use iron against me?” Toby’s voice was cautious.

Susan looked horrified.

“Of course not! You’re one of us, Toby!”

Toby finally relaxed a little.

“Well, I had to check,” he said, his expression rueful.

Susan pulled him into another hug, careful not to crush any of the fairies that were sitting all over him.

“You’re one of us,” she repeated. “And I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Toby… thank you for trusting me.”

Toby managed a smile, but said nothing. He still looked worried, Neville thought, even though he hid it well.

“Wait... ages ago, you said you were a prince,” Susan said, remembering. “You mean…” she lowered her voice even further, “a _fairy_ prince?”

Toby grinned, although the expression was little more lacklustre than usual. He sketched a bow.

“Your guess is correct.”

Susan shook her head wonderingly.

“Well, you’re always welcome here,” she said, and then made a face. “Death Eaters notwithstanding.”

This time Toby’s grin looked real.

“I never count the Death Eaters,” he assured her. 

Neville left them chatting, certain now that the situation wasn’t about to turn ugly. He had the Room create a copy of his favourite novel, and sat down to read it for a while. But only a few minutes later, Toby moved to sit beside him.

Neville lowered the book.

“Everything okay?”

“Besides the war, you mean?” Toby’s mouth quirked. “Peachy.”

Neville sighed, because the war was never far from his mind, even when the circumstances in the Room were light-hearted.

“I’m always worried about the war,” he admitted.

Toby only smiled at him.

“It’s alright. We’ll manage. No matter how long it takes, we’ll remain strong as long as we fight it together. All for one, and one for all.”

And Neville knew to his bones that Toby was right. He just hoped they all survived what was still to come.

**Author's Note:**

> There may be one more fic in this series, to wrap up some loose ends, but we'll see if I can get that one finished, first.


End file.
